Whatever People Say I am, That's What I'm Not
by goosehmm
Summary: Rose Weasley isn't like anyone Scorpius has ever met, and despite this fact he still can't seem to figure her out. One-shot.


_Whatever people say I am, that's what I'm not._

* * *

"_**I bet she's just like her father, mule-headed and bigoted. All Weasleys are."**_

* * *

"Tsk," I heard my father cluck his tongue and my thoughts were pulled from the rather intimidating train stationed in the platform. His grey-green eyes were focused on a rather large family of red heads, all boisterous and happy, celebrating the new school year. I was already envious of the red-heads, being part of such a large family, so full of joy. I only had my own mother and father. However, I knew something was peculiar about the group by the way my father smirked.

"What's wrong, father?" I asked, my brows furrowing. He seemed to know this particular group of people. At the sound of my voice, Draco Malfoy's eyes snatched away from the red heads, and met my own. Giving me a small smile, he bent down to become eye level with myself.

"I suppose it's time to tell you a few things, Scorpius. Those people are the Weasleys," I was bemused; my father has mentioned that name often in passing, although it always concerned simple work matters. What more could there be to this fiery family? His lips were turning into a small frown, as though he was remembering something.

"I knew their parents, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger during my days at school," He explained, pausing momentarily to allow my young brain to grasp onto the knowledge. I nodded, letting him know I was ready for him to continue. "Let us just say we didn't get along swimmingly. You see that redheaded little girl over there?" He was pointing to someone in particular, a short girl, perhaps the shortest of the female redheads. Her hair was bushy and untamed, much like the brown-haired woman's she stood next to. I pointed to her questioningly, and my father nodded, confirming I had my eyes set on the right girl.

"I don't know her name, though I can't say she'll treat you very well, Scorpius. Her father's has got quite the temper, and he's not one to easily get over past grudges. All I'm going to tell you is do not let her get the best of you, no matter how cruel she may act," He left it at that, straightening his back and standing to his full height. He turned to speak with my mother, glancing to the large family every few moments. My eyes continued to look at the group my father called the Weasley's, drinking in the sight.

A tall man with red hair was talking to the girl my father warned me about, his eyes periodically traveling over to me. Her own eyes followed, and even from where I was standing so far away, I could see her own were a bright, bright blue. I scowled as we made eye contact, and she looked quite taken aback, her brows furrowing, completely abashed by my action. Wasn't she supposed to glare at me too? I could only presume her father was warning her about me, as my father had warned me about her.

I found a seat on the train rather quickly after I had said my farewells to my bleary eyed parents. It was in a secluded compartment toward the front of the train. I could only imagine many of the older students wouldn't consider it "cool" to be sitting so close to the front. I immediately dropped my bags to the side and pulled out a small paperback book, allowing my eyes to drink in the story _Lord of the Flies. _

I heard the compartment door open but paid it no mind; I was getting to one of the more exciting parts of the book. However, when I heard a small gasp, my eyes impulsively snapped up, and again my grey eyes met her blue ones.

Immediately her eyebrows furrowed, and her blue eyes seemed to be getting rather wet—something that was very surprising to me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She squeaked, and dropped her bag in surprise. She scrambled to pick it up, and began backing away.

"Why are you sorry?" I murmured, thoroughly confused by the entire situation. My father said she was supposed to be rude and bigoted, not sincere and apologetic over nothing.

"You don't like me…" She muttered herself, her brows furrowing more as she probably contemplated the reasoning behind this. I was about to speak when she whispered something I could just barely hear. "My father says I shouldn't like you either, but I don't see why I should jump to conclusions so soon."

It was almost as though she were reprimanding me for my own behavior, subtly slipping in that I shouldn't judge a book so soon. Although it shouldn't have, I scowled, angered by her words. I would act any way I pleased.

"You're right, I don't like you," I bit back rather harshly, though I don't know why. This girl wasn't like what my father had though she would be. However, his words were still embedded in my brain, and now I almost wanted this girl to be rude to me. She squeaked in surprise again, her lips a tight frown.

"Oh… Okay," She fumbled for the compartment door and fled before I could say anything else.

* * *

"_**There entire family were Gryffindors, so she will be too,"**_

* * *

"I see you've met Weasley," my new friend gestured to the red headed girl, who was now speaking to a raven haired boy as though she had known him her own life. I scowled in response. Blake Zanbini merely laughed at my response, clapping me on the back.

"My father's told me about them, mate. Said she's going to be a Gryffindor like the rest of her family. We won't have to deal with her much then,"

Gryffindor, huh? My spirits were slightly raised, glad I would be able to distance myself from the girl. _My _family has been sorted Slytherin for generations, so I had no doubt in my mind that I would follow suit. I smiled triumphantly at the thought. Zabini laughed again.

The sorting had already started, and I was already growing tired of the fiasco. I was ready for the whole thing to end and all of the students to return to their dorms. Occasionally I found myself glancing to the Weasley girl, and every so often I caught her looking at me. However, the one time our eyes met she had a rather blank expression, and without a hint of emotion she turned back to the raven haired boy and continued speaking. The nerve. Our glancing matches, however, had served to pass the time, and before I knew it the old witch of a headmistress was calling my name.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!" I had to say, it was rather nerve-wracking to have the entire great hall silence at the calling of your name. They hadn't done that for any of the other students, had they? I swallowed slightly, giving one last glance back to Weasley, who was watching me carefully. I stumbled up to the stool with the old worn hat. McGonagall placed it on my head gingerly.

"A Malfoy, eh? I can see you are quite like your father. However, I sense a brashness in you, a boldness I haven't seen in a Malfoy for quite some time," The hat's words reverberated throughout my thoughts, and I was scrambling to decipher just what the old thing was trying to say.

"I think you'd make quite a spectacular Gryffindor," At the mention of the house I blanched, automatically thinking of the Weasley girl and how I'd rather stay far away. The hat's laugh echoed through my skull.

"And that is precisely why I think that. However, you seem rather adamantly against the house of garnet and gold. I see you suited then for _Slytherin_!" I jumped as I heard the hat's voice boom at the announcement of my house, although I was pleased with his choice. Feeling rather smug that I was sorted where I pleased, I sauntered over to my cheering house table. I looked back to see Zabini was smiling widely too.

"Potter, Albus!" Again, the great hall silenced, and I looked back to see the raven haired boy stumbling up toward the sorting hat. He looked just as nervous as I had felt while walking through the silent hall. Suddenly, another raven haired boy with glasses broke the silence.

"GO AL!" I few other red heads sitting at the Gryffindor table laughed at this, clapping for the young boy. I waited patiently as the hat was set upon his head.

"Gryffindor!" It didn't even take a moment for the hat to screech it's decision, and the boy named Al sprinted to his joyous table with a triumphant grin marking his features. I didn't miss him giving the Weasley girl a thumbs up. I then spaced out until another named caught my attention.

"Weasley, Rose!" So that was her name. She tripped mounting the steps to the stool though quickly corrected the action, and squeaked when the dusty old hat was set upon her head. Her sorting took ages. Literally, I was beginning to think the hat was giving her his life's story. I began to snooze against the table, thoroughly exhausted by the day's events, ready to collapse on my bed. However, the hat's decision quickly snapped me awake.

"Slytherin!"

She blanched. Rose's face was ghostly white, and she was shaking her head rather adamantly. The whole great hall was in silence, none of the Slytherins clapping for their new house member. She began to cry, turning to the headmistress. "There must be some mistake!" She stuttered, clinging onto the stool and she shuddered. McGonagall only looked at her sadly, solemnly shaking her head. "I'm sorry Rose, there is no mistake, please go join your house mates." She nudged Rose along, who began shaking as she began walking toward our table. Silence still stretched throughout the great hall, and she took a seat on the far end of the table, away from as many members of her new house members as she could get. She ate her entire dinner in silence, ignoring her many cousins coming to comfort her.

The girls in our house say she cried that entire night. All I know she received dozens of letters the next day at breakfast, all reassuring her of her new house. After that Rose smiled a little bit more.

* * *

"_**Rose Weasley doesn't belong in Slytherin."**_

* * *

I had managed five years of living in the same house as Rose Weasley. Though through all of this time, I still didn't believe she was a Slytherin.

Professor Flitwick excused the class, and we Slytherins began to gather our things. Weasley was looking particularly vulnerable as she dropped her knapsack, all of it's contents spilling out. Her ink bottle burst, and she seethed silently as she began to fumble to pick everything up before it soaked up her ink. I smirked, nudging my best mate Zabini and slowly making my way toward her.

"Tsk, Tsk, Weaslette, you're getting ink on my shoes. Be a dear and polish them for me, will you? It's great practice for your future job," Zabini snickered, but what I didn't expect was a small laugh from Rose herself. She pushed herself off of her knees into a crouching position. When she looked up at me, one plucked brow was quirked, and her lips were upturned into a small smile.

"Honestly, ferret? A shoe shiner? Next time you want to insult someone, ferret, chose something a little more plausible. It tends to hurt a bit more when there's a hint of truth behind it," She smirked slightly, gathering the last of her belongings and standing to her full height. She was very petite, and therefore her full height wasn't much. I was flustered, not many people reacted so calmly to insults. Where did her genetics come in? She was supposed to blush a bright red, she was supposed to bite my head off and cause a scene. She was supposed to hate me, trying to insult me with something equally absurd in an attempt to one up me! She wasn't supposed to give me _pointers _on how to insult her in the future. I stepped forward, attempting to intimidate her with my height—a last attempt effort to bring out her inner Weasley.

"Ferret?" I stumbled over the single word, thoroughly flustered. She was beating me at my own game. She laughed.

"My mum told me your father got turned into the ferret he was in their fourth year. You aren't any better than he was than. Therefore, you are a ferret," She wasn't really smiling anymore, but her eyebrows were raised waiting patiently for my reaction. She didn't have to wait long.

Needless to say, I am not fond of being compared to my father in his schooling days, nor am I fond of anyone bringing up his behavior from his schooling days. It's not who he is now, and I usually pride myself in his reform. Therefore, Rose's insult hit home and I scoffed, my pale cheeks getting hot as my eyes narrowed.

"Listen now—" I began, though I was abruptly stopped.

"That's how you insult someone," She said rather matter-of-factly, giving me a quick smirk before she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the room. Zabini burst into laughter at that moment, and I couldn't find the words to express how awestruck I was.

"She—I… Weaslet—that bitch!" I muttered, only to have my best mate erupt into another fit of laughter. I was fuming, how dare that weasel walk away from this!

"How very Slytherin of her," Zabini commented when he finally composed himself. I turned to him, completely puzzled by his claim.

"She isn't Slytheirn," I argued, huffing.

"Mate, she found out what ticks you off and used it against you, while also managing to one up you. Trust me Scorp, if anything that was quite Slytherin of her" No, Rose was a weasel, she wasn't supposed to be a Slytherin.

We were in our fifth year, and I still refused to believe her acts of composure and biting insults justified her sorting.

* * *

"_**Rose Weasley is going to follow in her father's footsteps."**_

* * *

It was late at night and I was patrolling the corridors. The years previously, Rose Weasley and I had been picked as the Slytherin Prefects, and therefore we were assigned rounds together. Usually we split up as a way to cover more grounds, though considering Gryffindor's victory against Ravenclaw earlier today, the heads found it necessary to double up on the amount of people patrolling to cover more ground. I think they hoped to achieve catching more people, but I don't understand their logic. They wished us to stay with our partners. Therefore, wouldn't we be covering the same amount of ground, just with two people instead of one?

Whatever, I just really didn't want to be partnered with the Weaslette. Though she didn't really seem all that opposed to it. Unlike me, she hadn't argued when the heads had made the announcement, instead she furrowed her brows and found something on her shoes very interesting.

At this moment, she was walking silently next to me, more than likely thinking something over. I had noticed long ago her eyebrows were always pointing down and her lips were a small frown whenever she was contemplating something. She wore this expression now. Suddenly, she glanced at me, catching me in the act of watching her. I thought I noticed a light pink flush over her freckled cheeks, although that may have been the lighting.

"Let's play a game," She said suddenly, watching me out of the corner of her eye. I looked at her questioningly, though she just shrugged her shoulders, muttering: "To pass the time,"

"What's the game?" I asked, watching her carefully myself. Rose seemed to smile a little at this.

"Just simple question and answer. I think it's a little weird that we've been housemates for six years and I only really know your name," Her voice dropped off at the end, and she was looking at her feet, kicking at something on the floor as we continued to walk. Unlike her, that fact didn't bother me in the least, although it was mainly my fault. I usually avoided her like the plague, always telling myself we would never get along.

"Fine, you start," I finally muttered after a few short minutes, and she looked at me again, a large smile gracing her features. Such a smile was foreign to me, I don't believe she's every given me one before. Her lips were either turned into a smirk or a scowl whenever I was near. I couldn't help but notice it was actually quite lovely, and my own lips twitched in response.

"Do you have any siblings?" Rose questioned, looking ahead as she spoke.

"No, it's just me." I smiled sadly, though she wasn't looking to see it.

"You can have mine," She joked, although she looked quite sad too. This prompted my first question.

"What's your brother like?" I suppose when she first broached the idea of this game, I had figured it would be simple meaningless questions like "what's your favorite color" or "who is your least favorite teacher". Then again, Rose herself was never one to bother with things she dubbed meaningless, therefore I shouldn't have been surprised the game hadn't turned out as I had thought.

She didn't like my question, I could tell. When I turned to watch her, her brows were furrowed and her lips were tight. She was also avoiding my eyes. Rose took awhile to answer.

"We aren't very close," she began, and I expected her to continue. After a few moments with no further answer, I gave up.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I don't know what made me say it. I've never really felt sorry for anyone before, I'm generally not a very sympathetic person. Though the way Rose looked pained made my very innards feel as though they were being torn apart. She looked quite taken aback by my sentence.

"Than—thank you?" Her words were choppy and came out as a question; I could tell Rose was just as surprised at my comment as I was.

"Your turn," I murmured, ready to change the subject.

"What's your favorite subject?" Rose asked now, I could tell she was trying to get away from the rather awkward subjects, turning to something easy. I was inwardly grateful for the simple question. I was honestly expecting her to ask me something just as emotional. But as always, I had judged her wrong.

"Charms," I answered matter-of-factly, not expecting to hear a small gasp beside me. My brows furrowed as I turned to her. "What?"

"Looks like we've got something in common, Mr. Malfoy," Rose smiled a little, one of those genuine pretty smiles I could really get used to seeing.

"Statistically it was bound to happen," I replied, and she laughed a little.

"Touche,"

"I was going to ask what profession you were looking into, but I think that would be a stupid question," I spoke my thoughts, something I hadn't done in quite some time. Usually I paid mind to censor most of what I had to say, I tended to think through things thoroughly. I chuckled at my statement, although I noticed a little too late that Rose seemed rather taken aback.

"Just because you want to follow in your daddy's footsteps doesn't mean I want to follow in mine," She hissed rather defensively, crossing her arms, her speed picking up. I frowned, chasing after her.

"Weasl—Rose, wait!" I chased after her and caught her by the arm, spinning her around. She scowled.

"I just figured, both of your parents and your uncle are all in law enforcement," I don't know why I whispered it, or why I was so upset that I had angered her. All I knew is that I wanted to make it right.

"You're right, and because of that my brother, Albus, James, Fred, Roxanne, Lucy, Teddy, and Louis all want to go into law enforcement too!" Rose threw her hands up in exasperation, obviously irritated again, although many of the names said were completely foreign to me. I wasn't very tactful in my asking of questions, was I?

"Sorry, it isn't your fault," She murmured after a moment. At this point, Rose had stopped, walking over to a pillar to lean against it. She was wrong; I was the one who had asked the question in such a matter-of-fact way, as though I knew Rose. Though truthfully, I was beginning to realize she wasn't anything like I thought. Still, her apology made me think back to our first day meeting, when she had apologized for my hasty conclusions. My brows knitted, and my lips curled into a frown.

"What do you want to be?" I found myself asking after a moment.

"A St. Mungos Healer," Rose smiled a little, at this point she had slid down the pillar and was seated on the floor, her eyes fixed adamantly at her shoes. "I like the idea of helping people when they are hurt. Because that's when people need someone the most. And I'd like to feel needed," Her voice dropped at the end and she was now hugging her knees, her gaze looking past me and onto the opposite wall. Rose suddenly snapped out of her thoughts. "What would you like to be?" Her voice was soft, and I could tell something was on her mind.

"A cursebreaker," I murmured, and she smiled.

"Not the Ministry job your father expects?" If she had said that sentence any other way, I would have thought she were mocking me. But if anything, Rose's tone of voice practically told me to not give a flying fuck about what my father thought.

"Not at all," I found myself chuckling, and Rose soon followed suit. Raising her hand in the air as though she were holding a glass, she called for a toast.

"Here's to following our own paths,"

I bumped her hand with my own invisible beverage, and we soon after continued our rounds new and unlikely friends.

* * *

**_"Rose Weasley was in no way_ attractive."**

* * *

Our new and fast friendship caused quite the uproar throughout Hogwarts. I thoroughly expected her hoard of male cousins to come and threaten castration if I were somehow joking with her, though the only one who came was Albus Potter. I then thought back to our conversation weeks prior and realized she probably wasn't as close to her male cousins or her brother as she used to be.

One thing I didn't expect to realize with our new friendship was just how great Rose was to be around. She was witty, sarcastic, calm, intelligent, and basically everything else I've always told myself she wasn't. It was quite a slap in the face, to be completely honest. The thought that I wasted years of potential friendship over my own bigotry.

I asked her once why she seemed so unlike her relatives. She simply told me "Whatever people say I am, that's what I'm not," and promptly walked away. When I further questioned her on the quote she shrugged, and told me it was some old muggle band's album name, one Fred Weasley used to listen to.

One thing I had always been right about, however, is Rose Weasley's romantic life, or lack of one. Through all six years of schooling, I had noticed she rarely ever took interest in most of the males wandering around Hogwarts. I used to taunt her about it, believing her lack of a love life was personal to her, and therefore would get some sort of rise out of her. She always just replied with: "I haven't found the right guy yet," and left it at that, not bothering to get flustered.

After that, I believed she could be a lesbian, because come on, it was highly plausible. This was perhaps the only thing I have ever said that caused her cheeks to flush a crimson red and her speech to become jumbled. I felt triumphant when she screeched denial and then proceeded to punch me in the groin for even considering such a thing.

I never realized, however, that her lonely life was much her doing. Before I had tended to ignore her during meals and classes, but now with out friendship, I noticed the approach of many males. During breakfast just this morning Adam Finnigan confidently strode over to Rose, and had asked her to accompany him to Hogsmeade this weekend. Rose had flushed a pretty shade of pink and gently turned him down, saying that she'd rather remain his friend. I also noticed she refused to meet my eyes after Finnigan left.

When I asked Rose why she turned him down, she gave me the same excuse as before, although added "There's actually someone else I like."

Dustin Creevey asked her to Hogsmeade during Defense today, and I don't know why, but it really angered me. It shouldn't, right? She turned him down, in much of the same manner as she did Finnigan, but how could I have failed to notice just how much attention Rose was getting? It wasn't even as though I thought she wasn't deserving of the attention, she was, and in some sick twisted way I was happy for her. But every time some bloke muttered those few words that generally implied he fancied her, I felt some unexplainable rage inside me that was only ebbed when she politely turned them down.

Rose was pretty; there was no doubt about that. I don't know what I was thinking when I used to call her ugly. She's still got the auburn hair, although through the years she's learned to tame into soft wavy curls. She's thinned out over the years, as well as grown considerably taller, although she is still short considering the substantial height difference between her and the other members of her family. She's heavily freckled, though it defines her, and if anything it aids the beauty of her bright blue eyes.

Merlin, I'm turning into a sod. Rose is pretty sure, but our relationship is purely platonic.

I can't even say that anymore, can I?

* * *

**_"Rose Weasley is not interested in me,"_**

* * *

"I'm sorry Daniel, I don't seem to reciprocate your feelings. Talk to Rachel, though, I think you'll have luck there," Rose gave the retreating figure a small smile before turning back to her book.

"Of course, first day back and Rose Weasley is already breaking hearts," It jokingly taunted her, nudging her side as I elicited a laugh from her. She turned to me, grinning.

"Ooh, are you jealous Scorpius?" She taunted back.

"You would wish," I winked, if only she knew I wasn't purely jesting. Did her… Did her face fall ever so slightly? I didn't have much time to ponder the fact when she was back wearing her signature smirk.

"Who does the great Scorpius Malfoy have his sights set on?" She asked, a teasing nature in her voice. Part of me thought she was genuinely curious, however.

"I don't think you deserve and answer," I replied rather snidely, although my wide grin would let her know I had more to add. "After all this time little Miss Rose has still refused to tell me this mysterious bloke that has her turning down the entire Hogwarts population!"

She flushed a bright red, and mumbled something while shoving a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

"Rosie, it isn't polite to talk with your mouth full," I chastised laughing, only to have Rose flush more.

"I said I asked first," Rose then murmured, taking a large gulp of pumpkin juice before giving me her full attention.

"But Rosie, I asked you ages ago. Doesn't that mean technically _I _asked first?" She frowned.

"Stop calling me Rosie," She protested.

"Don't change the subject. Who's this bloke who's got your knickers in a tizzy?"

"Listen, I've got a Transfiguration essay to finish, how about we finish this conversation later?" Rose was hastily speaking as she gathered her belongings from the Slytherin table, stuffing them into her knapsack. As she stood, one foot caught the large stone bench and she began crashing toward the floor. I quickly grabbed onto her arm, and she was looking quite frazzled.

"Rose, wait… I was just—"

"You don't know him anyway," She murmured, tugging herself from my grip as she fled the great hall. My brows were now knitted and I was wearing a tight frown, not at all pleased by the turn of events. Something else had to be wrong for Rose to have acted in such a fashion. Not having a clue as to what it could have been, I set off into the direction she ran.

It didn't take me long to find her, after a few corners turned she was sitting against the wall, hugging her knees as though they were her lifeline. She looked at me sadly as I approached.

"It's you," She whispered, almost inaudibly. She looked away as she spoke.

"You are right, it is me," I answered, thoroughly confused. "Did you expect it to be someone else?"

Rose barked out a harsh laugh, her eyes fixated on the carpeting now.

"I didn't mean it that way," She spoke lowly, refusing to meet my eyes again. I crouched down beside her, my brows furrowed as I tried to decipher the meaning behind her words. She was being pretty bloody cryptic.

"Even when you were a git to me. I always thought: 'Hey! Maybe in the future he'll finally get over all these misconceptions he seems to have about me and he'll finally realize we've actually got a lot in common'." It seemed as though Rose was speaking more to herself than she was to me.

"Rose, I _have _gotten over my misconceptions and I _do _realize we've got a lot in common!" I was getting rather exasperated now, completely clueless as to what has Rose's knickers in a twist. She let out a frustrated huff, both hands running through her hair as she tugged at it.

"No, Scorpius! You don't understand—"

"Then just tell me!" I interrupted her, and for a moment I figured she'd rip my head off. Both our voices were getting dangerously louder, and I felt like we were going to start a shouting match. Instead, she seemed to relax a bit, turning to look at me curiously.

"Do you want to know why I turned all those blokes down?" Rose spoke softly, her words barely audible. Her blue eyes were locked onto my grey ones, flitting around frantically as though she were searching for something. I nodded.

"Well, I was kind of—I… Well, you see—" She let out an infuriated huff again, her head burying into her knees. I gave her a few minutes until she rose slowly.

"I fancy you, alright? I've actually fancied you for quite awhile. I don't know why, seeing as though you were a bloody wanker up until last year. And you'd always say such mean things about me, and I always thought something was wrong with me! I saw myself in such a different way than you described me, and I thought I really was the prat you thought I was…" When Rose, ended, her voice was a mere whisper, her mouth turned into a slight frown as she bit her lip.

I was speechless, not at all figuring such a thing was possible. Rose Weasley, fancying _me _off all people.

"Scorpius, you are the one who has got my knickers in a tizzy," She blushed scarlet at this, referencing my sentence spoken earlier on in the great hall. Although the time was probably not appropriate, I burst into laughter. Rose looked merely bemused, her frown growing tighter.

"I'm sorry for dumping this on you it's just—"

Once my laughter had subsided, I realized Rose was growing rather upset. I cut her off by raising a finger to her lips. She looked quite taken aback, although it silenced her.

"This really works out great Rose. Because you see, I fancy you quite a bit too,"

Before I could realize what was happening, Rose broke into a wide grin—the one that I have come to absolute adore—scooting forward toward me.

"Really?"

"Really, really. And I'm sorry for being such a ponce—umph!"

Before I knew it Rose had pounced me, her lips crashing into my. Without even having to think about it, one hand found her waist and pulled her closer while the other found her hair. All the while, with much enthusiasm, I kissed her back. She was the first to pull away.

"You are a ponce Scorpius Malfoy. I reckon this could have happened a lot sooner if you weren't such a git,"

"Whatever people say I am, that's what I'm not," I said rather matter-of-factly, winking.

And then I kissed her.

* * *

**I'd just like to start off by saying I am actually quite pleased with how this turned out. There are a few things I could have changed, but over-all I'm really happy with the outcome of this one-shot. It was an idea I've had in my head for a couple of weeks. It started out with Rose being a Slytherin, because you see her sorted in the other three houses, but I don't think I myself have ever read a fic where she has been a Slytherin. Therefore, I wanted to write that, and it progressed into this! Anywho, I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'd love to hear some criticism and comments, considering this was my first ever one-shot! Whooo! Haha! Thank you all for reading, and please review!**


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